Klaine Advent Challenge 2016
by BlurtItAllOut
Summary: A series of one-shots inspired by the Advent Challenge on Tumblr.
1. Audience

**I have no idea if I'll be able to write every day of Advent, but at least this word spoke to me and prompted this little scene. It follows canon, except Kurt and Blaine never met - but otherwise Kurt began NYADA a semester after Rachel did, and Blaine begins after summer when he's graduated from Dalton.**

 **This is a one-shot, unless future word prompts inspire me.**

* * *

Kurt's body tingles from the resonance of that perfect note. He messed up the breathing during the end of the second chorus, and he needs cleaner pronunciation during that rapid sequence building up to the first chorus. But at least he ended the song on a perfect high, without running out of air, and still sufficiently strong and pitched.

He wipes his forehead, grimaces at the sweat, and turns towards his bag for his towel and a bottle of water.

That's when he sees him: The ridiculously talented, charming and sweet eyecandy of a Freshman. It's been impossible not to notice him, and it's been impossible to find a moment to talk with him without having a big audience witnessing Kurt's awful attempts at flirting. Being in different years, their paths don't always cross during the day, and the schedule is busy enough to prevent Kurt from loitering around in the hopes of catching him.

But somehow – and Kurt knows that the first semester isn't much calmer than the second semester, this boy has found time to stop in the door opening to watch the last of Kurt's performance. Whereas when Kurt was still new, he'd been running frantically to dance rehearsal, stage combat, history of ballet, or vocal training, in a big building with too many rooms he by then still didn't know where to find. NYADA is his dream, but it can also be a nightmare.

Kurt quickly glances at one of the mirrors behind him, to check that his faced isn't too flushed or his hair too much of a mess, before he takes a few steps towards the boy, who is smiling brilliantly at him.

"I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but when I realized what you were singing I just had to witness it. You're spectacular!" the boy gushes, and Kurt preens. He is good, he knows he is, and he wouldn't be at NYADA if he was only decent. But it's always nice to be told so by others, and especially by devastatingly cute boys wearing colour-coordinated blazer and bowtie.

"Not a problem," Kurt grins with that lopsided smile that comes out when he isn't entirely relaxed, trying a bit too hard to be something, something clever or smart or laidback. "I think performing for an audience is part of the deal if you want the Broadway-dream."

"True," the other boy chuckles, and ducks his head in the most adorable way, and scratches the back of his neck.

"Kurt Hummel," Kurt says boldly, and closes the distance to extend his hand.

"I know. I'm Blaine Anderson," the other boy says, catching Kurt's hand in a warm, gentle, but firm grip which Kurt can feel all the way down to his toes. "So now that I've witnessed this," he says and gestures both at Kurt and the entire room, "I have to ask: Why have you lined up all of Cassandra's mirrors like that?"

"I sang to them," Kurt says, as if it's the most obvious answer. "I'm working on a solo piece, and they are helping me improve," Kurt explains. "Wow. Saying it out loud like that, I realize I sound absolutely crazy. I promise I'm fairly normal. No, I'm not," Kurt corrects himself. "But I like to lean towards the side of crazy keeping me out of an asylum."

"Don't we all," Blaine smiles genuinely. "So, you sing to the mirrors, pretending they're your audience?" he asks, and takes a few steps further into the room.

"You're going to think I'm insane," Kurt groans, and regrets not closing and locking the door earlier.

"Kurt, I think everyone attending NYADA has done something less than mainstream before coming here, and then takes it up a notch or ten. I don't know if you've noticed, but most NYADA-students tend to be pretty eccentric," Blaine whispers dramatically.

"Really?" Kurt says in a tone he hopes is closer to flirting than judgment. "And what is your backstory?

"Who said it's just the one?" Blaine giggles, and jumps closer to the first mirror. He brushes some dust off the frame, and then adjusts his perfectly aligned bowtie. Kurt follows him slowly, and lifts one of the mirrors to mount back on the wall before Miss July eviscerates him.

"I was ranting to my Dad about how much I have to do, telling him about all the stress and expectations, and how frustrating it is to know that I can so much better, but it just won't sound like it in class, you know?"

Blaine nods silently, and follows him with a mirror.

"So my dad reminded me how I'm my own worst enemy. And I figured that if I sang to myself, I'd gain some unique feedback on potential for improvement."

"That's amazing!" Blaine flails, and almost drops the mirror. Kurt hurries to help him – Broadway is difficult enough, without starting your education with a seven years curse on your shoulders. "Oh my god, they were totally right."

"Who were right about what?"

"I talked with some Seniors, and they mentioned how you are the most interesting kid in all of NYADA. So of course I had to introduce myself to someone like you, and figure out if it would be possible to get some advice for a poor Freshman in exchange for coffee and biscotti?"

"Umm…" Kurt says dumbly. "There are so many crazily talented students here, you included. I saw the flashmob you lead in the dining hall a few weeks ago," he adds when Blaine looks confused.

"That was a bet," Blaine murmurs.

"It sounds like something I'd like to hear more about," Kurt tries to smile both charmingly and teasingly.

"So you wouldn't be opposed to coffee sometime?"

"There's no time like the present, Kurt says boldly, and gets a wide smile in return.


	2. Bed

**This is probably the saddest thing I've written in a long while, but I got so down after watching the latest episode of one of my favourite shows with its very sad turn of events, so I needed to channel it somehow.**

 **This is an AU, where Kurt and Blaine don't meet until they're both out of Ohio and then some.**

* * *

Kurt watches from the wing, just like Blaine has been standing during his performance. Even make-up or Ryan Seacrest have had to put up a convincing argument to make them move. Kurt doesn't know if they suspect anything, or if they blatantly know. Not that Kurt knows what there is to know, because whatever is going on between him and Blaine hasn't been put words to. Dating while participating in American Idol isn't the easiest thing to come by, with the hectic schedules and constant media pressure, the never-ending need for sleep, and the raw publicity of everything they breathe or tweet or look at. So no, Kurt Hummel doesn't have a boyfriend. But he has something.

It's 80's week this week, in all its glamour and horror. Kurt had called home to ask Carole for advice. She had instilled a certain appreciation of music from this decade in Finn, so Kurt had wanted to sing something that Finn would have loved. He might not dream of becoming a pop star, but a man can only take so many rejections from Broadway, so he gave himself a break to pursuit music and ambitions in different ways. They are in week four, and for each performance he can feel the rush and the desire to win this thing. It's a bit like competing with Glee again, except he gets all the solos, and so does everyone else.

Blaine had watched Kurt perform Crowded House's _Don't Dream It's Over_ from the wing, and hugged him tightly when Ryan finally let him go after selling out his number and desperate need for votes. For all they have talked about, there's so much they haven't talked about yet.

From the looks Blaine has been giving him during dress-rehearsal, he knows something's off. With more elaborate costumes, bigger hair and more make-up there hasn't been much downtime today, and Kurt has been running from one chair to another, from sound-check to costume to choreography for the opening number and back to stage to do a rerun with his backup-singers. But whenever he's crossed path with Blaine or they have been within eyecontact-distance, he's seen the worry in Blaine's eyes and tight smile. Kurt isn't willing to give Blaine empty reassurances – but he doesn't want to lie to him either, so instead he hasn't said anything, ploughing through this one on his own.

Kurt had been one of the first to perform, which strategically is said to be a drawback if the voters don't remember the earlier songs. But today it was to his advantage, when for each 80's song he has to listen to, he gets more and more sentimental. He's so, so glad they don't have to be on stage while the others perform. He doesn't have the poker face for hours of cameras today.

Kurt hadn't known which song Blaine would be singing today, simply because he hadn't asked when it didn't come up as a topic. He hadn't been entirely surprised when he heard the very familiar intro, because a protest-song like that seemed fitting to Blaine's enthusiasm and involvement with equal rights and a just political standpoint. But he hadn't been ready to hear one of the songs Carole had pegged as Finn's favourites – a song he had loved ever since Carole had explained to him as a child about how it was a song to defend people who wanted their homes back.

 _How can we dance when our earth is turning, how do we sleep while our beds are burning?_

Blaine is singing with so much passion, singing with his entire body, and somehow he reminds Kurt so much of Finn right now. They look nothing alike, but the hole in Kurt's heart so badly wants to see his brother sing again, being righteously pissed and standing up for those who needed it.

He tries to ignore the tears, he tries not to think about how Marcus in makeup will react to this mess, because Blaine is captivating, and Kurt is so glad he met him, but he can't be glad for having someone when he misses someone else. It's just too painful for his heart to feel this much and so conflicted.

He sniffs, and takes a few steps away in the hopes of finding something to wipe his nose. Blaine must have seen him move, because he quickly looks in his direction, just barely there, before he continues to sing to the visible audience. But before the cheers have quietened down, Blaine is there, catching him in a tight hug, and gently brushing tears off of his cheeks. He doesn't say anything, just holds him close and moves them to a corner for an illusion of privacy. He runs a hand through Kurt's hair, the other hand is gently following a random path up and down Kurt's back, and he lets Kurt cling to him for as long as he needs.

It doesn't last for long, with only two more to sing after Blaine they are soon asked to get ready for their closing number. Marcus looks furious when he spots Kurt's hair, but one glare from Blaine is all it takes to shut him up. Blaine doesn't leave Kurt's side while Marcus works to hide the evidence of Kurt's crying. Even Ryan shows up, asking if Kurt needs to sit the next number out. But Kurt can't do that – he can't show any signs of weakness, and he can't say no to time on the screen when he depends on the voters to get him through to the next week. So he puts on his mask, because the show has to go on all over the place, and joins the others where they are waiting to get back on stage for the closing number. Small mercies they aren't singing _Don't Stop Believing_.

Kurt doesn't remember anything from the group number, he doesn't remember anything from the cars taking them back to the mansion, and he doesn't remember how he ended here. But he's clutching a mug of coffee and sitting on a rickety bench on the balcony of the house the Idol-contestants live in, inhaling the semi-fresh air while Blaine rests a comforting hand on his back.

With only the moon as their witness, Kurt tells Blaine everything about Finn. There are tears and snot, laughter and groans. Blaine listens patiently, asks questions as if he sincerely wants to learn more about him, and holds him through it all. When the cold night chases them inside again, they settle in the couch under blankets, and talk until the Sandman catches them unguarded, lulling them to sleep in the other's embrace.


	3. Charm

**I think this speaks for itself.**

* * *

"Stop it right there, Mister!"

Kurt freezes, with one arm halfway down a sleeve and the other fumbling to find the other sleeve behind his back.

"Did you think you could just up and leave like that?" Blaine grins, and jogs across their living room towards Kurt.

"Yes," Kurt deadpans. "I was trying to sneak out right in front of you." He can't not smile, though, when Blaine without thinking helps him with his coat.

"I'm sorry I can't go with you to the theatre," Blaine says sweetly, and the regret in his eyes is clear.

"Blaine Devon Anderson-Hummel," Kurt drawls, and lets Blaine tug him closer with his scarf.

"Ooh, all four names, you must be serious," Blaine murmurs.

"Three names; hyphenation," Kurt corrects him, before he kisses his silly man. "Anyway, I'm a big boy and can go to my auditions on my own."

"Oh, I know you're a big boy," Blaine grins cheekily, his lips curving against Kurt's. Kurt can't see him, but he's pretty sure his husband is wiggling his eyebrows like he tends to do when he's joking far from G-ratedly. "But it would have been nice to ride the subway together, at least. You're going to nail this audition, swoon them with your talent, and be very busy with rehearsals very soon, and I'd like to see as much of you as possible while I still can."

"Oh, you just saw plenty of me," Kurt snorts, and Blaine laughs out loud.

"Well, even if I have to admit to having had a very satisfying morning, I'd still like to kiss you good luck before you leave," he grins cheekily, and tucks the ends of the scarf safely inside Kurt's coat. "You've got your thermos and lip balm?" he checks, and pulls out a pair of soft leather gloves from the vintage wood chest Kurt bought on Craigslist for less than a grand nonfat mocha. A real scoop, and it fits perfectly in their hall to store hats, scarfs, gloves and mittens. It's still a chaotic mess, but at least it is out of sight. Kurt is still trying to figure out how he can regain some order and at least keep the gloves paired up.

"I've got everything," he confirms, and pats his satchel, "including an extra set of the sheet music." It still gets to him, how heartwarming it is that Blaine knows his little quirks and routines before an audition, including his fear of running out of lip balm and hot lemon water.

"Are you ready to be kissed?"

Kurt inhales deeply, because even after almost three years of being married, a kiss from Blaine is never just a kiss.

"Always," Kurt replies, because there is never any other options.

Blaine smiles sweetly at him, before he erases the miniscule distance between them, and brushes his lips in a whisper against Kurt's. Kurt feels like a teenager for how he gasps at the tenderness. Blaine takes advantage of Kurt's distraction to deepen the kiss, cupping his face with both hands, and leans in until Kurt is backed up wonderfully against the door. Kurt flails for a moment, the "too much but never enough" of being kissed by Blaine catching him unguarded time after time. But then his arms settles comfortably in Blaine's back pockets, and he lets himself fully enjoy the closeness for a few more moments, until he has to run to the subway and the most important audition he's had so far in his life.

"Break a leg," Blaine murmurs against his lips a little breathlessly. "Remember I'll always be with you here," he says and rests a hand over Kurt's heart.

"You're a dork," Kurt tries to snort, but he honestly loves this side of Blaine. "Thank you, though. Ever since that staircase at Dalton, I'm convinced you are my own personal good luck charm."

Blaine beams, and presses his lips against Kurt's with a loud muah. "Go get 'em, Tiger."

Two weeks later, Kurt receives a phone call that alters his schedule for the next seven months completely. Blaine and he celebrate his new part with a public dinner and a very private dessert, after Blaine whispers hotly how Kurt should rub his good luck charm and see what happens.


	4. Dare

**This is set to episode 3:17 "Dance with Somebody", as the only thing I could think of when I saw the prompt-word _Dare_ was this particular song.**

 **Written in a rush, so don't expect much :p**

* * *

Blaine really doesn't like this song.

 _Share my life, Take me for what I am, 'Cause I'll never change All my colours for you._

Oh, he loves watching his boyfriend sing, his voice is phenomenal, and he is killing this song. And as much as Blaine usually adores Whitney Houston, he really doesn't like this song.

He never wanted Kurt to change, quite the opposite; he's always admired his unapologetic demand to be who he is. But they can only be two in this relationship, and Blaine hated feeling as if he was playing third violin.

He loves Kurt for who he is, but something has to change if they have a future. Blaine trusts Kurt, but… But. But he needs to know that they are on the same page when defining limits and freedom in this relationship, and especially when it'll be long-distance.

Mike is looking strangely at him, and Blaine glares immaturely at him. As if Tina and he have a perfect relationship…

 _Take my love, I'll never ask for too much. Just all that you are, And everything that you do._

Blaine seriously doesn't like this song. Kurt may say he wants Blaine just as he is, but he hasn't made him feel it lately. And doesn't action speak louder than words? How can Blaine know for sure what Kurt really feels about him, when he's giggling and blushing at texts from other boys? What if Kurt is tired of him, and they are just drifting apart, the thrilling flames of a high school-sweetheart fading out?

 _I don't really need to look Very much further, I don't want to have to go Where you don't follow.  
_

Oh crap. Kurt is looking straight at him, and he isn't begging or pleading. No, he looks certain and confident. This is the truth, nothing to discuss or compromise. Kurt wants to go to New York, but he wants Blaine to join him when he graduates in a year. And if Blaine isn't sharing his dream? Will he remain in Ohio, or are there other dreams? And is Blaine really so important to him, that he'll shape his education and future to fit with Blaine's? Then why haven't Blaine felt important to Kurt lately? What are they doing?

 _I will hold it back again This passion inside, Can't run from myself, There's nowhere to hide._

Blaine hates this song. He thought they were solid. They've been dating for more than a year, they've survived distance, a transfer, Sebastian, the drunk visit to Scandals, auditioning for the same role, figuring out sex, and standing above the relationship-mayhem that seems to curse anyone being a part of New Directions. Troughout the time Blaine's known Kurt, he's watched the boy bloom, regaining his confidence and pride. He was at a low point when he came to Dalton, but Kurt Hummel has stopped hiding and has grown into his skin – and not just in the naked under his clothes-way. Kurt is passion and bright and pure and honest.

 _Don't make me close one more door, I don't want to hurt anymore. Stay in my arms if you dare, Or must I imagine you there.  
_

Blaine loathes this song. Kurt's had so many no's in his life, he's been through so much pain – and Blaine wasn't supposed to be someone refusing his hand or hurting him. But to think that Kurt would have to dare Blaine to stay? As if there are any other options he honestly wants to consider?

He blinks, eyes getting foggy and affected. Of course he wants to stay in Kurt's arms, in his soul, in his mind. He's so fucking proud of Kurt, and he's beyond proud of what they've had together, what they are constantly battling and coming out on the other end stronger, better and more in love. Asking Kurt to be his was the single most scary thing Blaine has done for himself, but it was also the only possible alternative. Being a gay couple in prejudiced Ohio is hopefully the hardest thing they'll have to battle in their lives. But it's never been a sacrifice, or a burden, or something he has to brave through. Loving Kurt and being his boyfriend is the easiest, simplest and most obvious thing for how complicated it seems right now. And if Kurt can't see that? If he thinks he has to challenge or dare Blaine to stay? Doesn't he know how absolutely gaga Blaine is for him?

 _Don't walk away from me. I have nothing, nothing, nothing, If I don't have you, you, you, you, you._

And maybe this song actually isn't so bad, because Kurt might as well be singing about how Blaine feels. Without Kurt, Blaine has and is nothing. Kurt is his reason for everything.

He hides his trembling lips behind his hands, and blinks, but doesn't look away from Kurt. They've both messed up. Kurt shouldn't have texted like that with Chandler, but Blaine should have let him know how it made him feel instead of withdrawing as if he seriously thought he could prepare himself for the loneliness and ache that inevitably will happen when he's seeing Kurt off to New York.

They messed up, but they can fix this. Their love will survive this too, and Blaine just knows their story is one for the movies, and they will have their happy ending when they've endured the next challenging year. Kurt and Blaine are forever.

It's not a dare; it's a promise.


	5. Early

Blaine had been over the moon when his teacher sent the entire class an e-mail, informing them of an emergency which made it impossible for him to teach today. Two hours of unexpected freedom were the perfect ending to a long Friday in an equally long week. Excited and so done with school for now, Blaine decided to hurry home unannounced, and surprise Kurt with cheesecake, and maybe even takeaway. They had wedding details to discuss this weekend, and had agreed to avoid any other social outings to get at least a few things on their long list done. Even if Kurt can be a nitpicker, obsessing over details and being very loud and opinionated, Blaine enjoys preparing their wedding. How can he not be excited about romance and the prospect of forever together? At least that's his standpoint now, before they've spent five hours discussing which font they'll use on their invitations.

Oh well, Blaine is excited now, and is literally bouncing up the stairs, with his book-heavy satchel over one shoulder and a paper bag with Japanese takeaway in one hand and a cardboard box with a thin rope and a bow securely in the other hand – and cheesecake inside the box, obviously.

Blaine somehow manages to juggle everything he's carrying, and still get his keys out from the bottom of his satchel (why do keys always end up in the bottom?) to unlock the door.

He hadn't imagined the vision greeting him – Kurt in the arms of some handsome man vaguely reminding Blaine of Zac Efron as he looked in _Hairspray_. The Copy-Zac has one arm secured tightly around Kurt's waist, and Kurt is showing off just exactly how flexible he is with the deep dip he's bent in. Their hands are intimately linked, and Kurt's other hand is flailing against Zac the Second's chest as if he needs to move some part of him to maintain balance.

"Oh, hi Blaine!" Kurt greets him with his head tilted backwards, speaking with his face upside-down. "You're home early," he says happily. The Zac-a-be helps Kurt back up, and soon after Kurt is kissing Blaine's cheek and relieving him of the food.

"Link and I were just wrapping it up," he says as he carries the food bags to their kitchen. From the corner of his eye, he can see Link dissemble a portable speaker from his iPod, efficiently killing the sound of classical music. "I know you have years of formal training behind you, but thanks to Link I think I'm soon up to the Anderson-standard for our wedding waltz."

"Anderson-Hummel," Blaine corrects him with a fond smile, and brushes the back of his hand across Kurt's cheek until he cups his face and lets himself drown in his fiancé's eyes.

"Kurt, I'm heading out, but I'll see you both next week?"

"Yes, but remember we can't start until 5, Blaine has classes."

"Sure thing," Link nods, and leaves him.

"Next week, I'll be waltzing with my future husband," Kurt sighs, and swoons, letting himself lean closer to Blaine, with his arms wrapped around his neck.

"Who says you have to wait for an entire week?"

"The more rehearsal, the better execution," Kurt murmurs, and kisses his jaw.

"Exactly. I spent a lot of time preparing that speech for when I proposed, and I know I'll spend every waking minute to get my speech during the dinner absolutely perfect," he says and tightens his hold around Kurt

"And we do take our sweet time comparing our alternatives, to guarantee the table decorations will be just like we want them to be," Kurt plays along, and nibbles at Blaine' earlobe. "And then there's that other thing we might need to prepare, with all the expectations and everything."

"That other thing?" Blaine swallows, and exhales deeply as Kurt walks him backwards without letting go of his touch, his embrace and his kisses keeping Blaine warm and electric.

"The wedding night," Kurt whispers cheekily.

"Oh, yes," Blaine exclaims, and almost stumbles – thank goodness for his fiancé's rapid reflexes and strong arms. "Absolutely, definitely, the wedding night, yup, can never be too prepared," he blurts out, and Kurt chuckles.

"Let's… _practice_ ," Kurt suggests, and pushes Blaine down on their shared bed. Thank goodness for early weekends!


	6. Fair

"I'm glad we did this," Carole tells him while cupping his cheek.

"So am I," Kurt says, and means it sincerely.

When Kurt came to Lima last night, Carole had wondered if he'd like to join her for the last day of the huge Christmas fair in Westerville. He'd lucked out and been able to go to Lima almost an entire week before Christmas, while Rachel still had a few classes and an exam to complete before she could follow after. When he realized he'd have so much time at home, he decided to postpone some of the gift shopping until he was back in Lima. That way, he wouldn't have to worry about overweight luggage or fragile items. Some gifts were already purchased in New York, obviously, because the shopping possibilities were galaxies beyond what he was used to at home. But maybe a Christmas fair would give him some alternatives. He wants to find something special for his friends.

Besides, spending a day with Carole while indulging in caramelized apples, roasted nuts and other delicious treats from the booths isn't the worst way to initiate his Christmas vacation. The blaring hole after Finn is still sometimes sucking them into a depressive void, and Kurt would never want to try to replace him. But Carole and he have a special bond of their own, and Burt doesn't have the patience to spend all the hours looking at vintage decorations and homemade crafts.

They've already spent two hours here, strolling from booth to booth, catching each other up on gossip and news, snacking on more treats than he imagined, buying a few new decorations for the family tree, and they've also found some lovely gifts – including a few purchases for themselves. The soft home-knitted scarf in five different shades of turquois could not be left behind, and Carole had fallen head over heels when she saw a pair of lovey-dovey Mr. and Mrs. Santa Claus.

"So, Kurt, have you been naughty or nice?" Carole wonders out of the blue, drawing Kurt from studying a display of silver rings. He looks up at her, and she has an expression he might be willing to label naughty. She grins at him, and nods in the direction of a display crowded with kids of most ages. "Do you need to give Santa your wish list?" she giggles, and nudges his shoulder. He laughs with her, happy to see her so bubbly, and takes in the wooden cabin and simple decorations. There's a long queue of children waiting to tell Santa what they are dreaming of, the line weaving around small and lovely decorated trees and oversized polkadot-canes. A stuffed reindeer and piles of brightly coloured presents add to the festive stop. Carole leads him closer, and Kurt notices a few young actors dressed up as elfs.

"Finn used to love visiting Santa when he was a kid. I don't know how many hours I've spent standing in lines for his sake," she smiles ruefully, and nods at all the parents in different states of patience. "I always hoped I'd get to do it again as a grandmother. I'm counting on you, Sir," she grins and pokes him in the chest.

"I'm so single it hurts," he groans. "Besides, I'm still too young to think about children."

"Then you'll have to meet Santa with me today," Carole laughs.

"Sure," Kurt drawls, "because I'm sure they don't have an upper age limit for this."

"We don't, actually," a soft voice says from his left, startling him. His head whips around, and takes in the sight of one of the elf-dressed young men. The boots are a disaster, but boy can he pull off green velvet and jingling bells. It takes a few moments for Kurt to look away from those warm eyes, and when he takes in the entire face the boy is laughing easily.

"Would you like to meet Santa, Ma'am?" he asks charmingly, but quickly looks back at Kurt.

"You know what, I think I will. I have no idea what to get for my husband, maybe a pro as Santa can give me some hints," Carole sounds grateful, but when Kurt looks at her she looks too pleased. "Come on, Kurt, this lovely young elf just made my day."

"Yeah," Kurt says, and coughs to clear his throat. When did Ohio get hot elfs like this one?

"If you'll follow me?" the elf says, and looks at both of them. Carole determinedly closes the relatively short distance to the end of the queue, and the elf rests a careful hand on Kurt's back and guides him into position. "The waiting time is an estimated twenty minutes," he says. "If you'll excuse me?" he adds, and backs away with a sweet smile. He then turns around, and jogs off, and those pants are so not child-friendly.

"Oh… My… God…" Kurt whispers.

"You are very welcome. Merry Christmas, Kurt," Carole grins wickedly. Her smile intensifies when the hot elf returns with two paper-cups for them, with hot chocolate and mini-marshmallows.

"Best wishes from… Umm, Santa," he blushes, but looks at Kurt through his eyelashes.

"Thank you," Kurt murmurs. Carole probably says something too.

"So, what's your name?" the elf asks. "I need to check with Santa's list if you've been naughty or nice," he says, sounding slyer than when he handed them the hot drinks.

"I thought Santa knew our names?"

"Yes, yes he does, but you see, I'm not as magical as he is, and so I need your name to assist Santa as good as I know how to."

"And if you fail at assisting him, will Santa fire you?" Kurt grins, and the elf smiles back, shaking his head.

"No, but I do get pooper-scooper-duty in the reindeer stables for a week."

"Oh no, that would be a travesty with such fine pants. I'm Kurt," Kurt giggles, and extends a hand. The hot elf takes it in his hand, and leans in.

"Don't tell anyone," he murmurs, "but I'm Blaine," he whispers, his breath tickling Kurt hotly, giving him shivers all over.

"Your secret's safe with me," Kurt nods serenely.

"I knew you were special," Blaine murmurs, and reluctantly lets go of Kurt's hand. "I hope you get everything you wish for Christmas."

"Well," Kurt says, and decides to be bold for once, "that really isn't up to me, is it?"

"Is it up to Santa?" Blaine asks, looking honestly confused.

"No," Kurt shakes his head, and looks at Blaine. "But I do hear he has a magical elf assisting him with a lot of important work. Maybe he knows what I'd like?"

"He does?" Blaine blurts out, and then his face breaks into a grin. "I do believe in Christmas magic!"

When Carole and Kurt leave the fair, Carole has a new picture on her phone of her and the Santa, and Kurt has stored a new number in his phone – and in his back pocket he has a piece of parchment with the same telephone number written, which Blaine gave him along with two candy canes. Merry Christmas indeed.


	7. Guess

**This is potential canon, one of the last things to happen in season 2, I'd think.**

* * *

"Guess who?" a warm, male voice says just as Kurt's sight is blinded by what he assumes are two hands. He'd been staring through the wall, looking at nothing, and just waiting for Mercedes to finally show up. She's probably under the risers, making out with Sam and pretending that nobody knows they are dating. He smiles, and leans back in his chair, a bit surprised that he didn't jolt or scream by the surprise, but this is hardly the worst surprise he's ever gotten in this moronic excuse for an educational institution.

"Is that you, Puck?" Kurt drawls sugar-sweetly, and a few fingers flex in front of his face.

"Guess again?"

"I sure hope it isn't you, Finn, because I know for a fact that you don't wash your hands after going to the toilet, and that's just… Ugh…"

"Gross," the voice behind him agrees. "And no, not Finn either."

"Hmm…" Kurt muses, enjoying this little game. "Matt? Did you come back? Did you miss us?"

"Who's Matt?" the voice asks confused.

"I take that as a 'no', then. Mike, did Tina finally let go of you?"

"They're glued by their lips over there," the voice says, and one hand disappears from in front of Kurt's eye to point in the right direction. Focusing away from the wall Kurt had been trying to hypnotize, he sees the couple a little to the left, ruining the appetite for quite a few classes. The hand covers his eye again.

"Well, I know for a fact that it can't be my darling boyfriend, because he has his last finals today. There's not that many young men in my life, whoever can this be?" he asks in an exaggerated southern drawl.

"It's me!" the voice exclaims proudly, and the hands in front of Kurt's eyes disappear. He turns around in his chair to see Cooper standing with extended arms in a wide tadaa-gesture.

"What are you doing here?" Kurt rolls his eyes. He's pretty sure that no matter how many years Blaine and he date, or spend as married men, he'll never quite figure out Cooper. Blaine has had 17 more years to solve the puzzle that is his big brother, and he still hasn't gotten any closer to an answer.

"I thought I'd surprise Blainers when he's done, and I'm kidnapping you as part of the surprise!" Cooper beams happily and points at Kurt.

"I still have classes," Kurt informs his sort-of-brother-in-law, one eyebrow raised in righteous judgment.

"Pssh, you've finished all your finals, and nobody cares if you ditch a few classes this close to summer break," Cooper insists, and even drapes Kurt's satchel over his shoulder like some kind of hostage.

"You know an awful lot about me?" Kurt says suspiciously.

"Blaine talks about you. A lot," Cooper sighs, and Kurt thrills inwardly. It's good to know that he's not the only one talking his family insane about his boyfriend. Still, Blaine obviously already has an insane family member.

"I have Glee," Kurt informs him coolly. "And I like Glee. We're performing a jaw-dropping number when the football team plays their something-something next week, so I need to be there today."

"We can sing in the car, and I can adjust and improve your part, free of charge – you are almost family, after all," Cooper winks. "Come on, text one of your friends so they know you weren't abducted by aliens, and let's go. Blaine is always so darn composed, and I really want to see his face if the two of us surprise him!"

Kurt can feel himself blush, because there are certain situations where Blaine is far from composed, and not really very dapper either, when he sweats, swears and rolls his eyes to the back of his scull while grinding against Kurt's thigh on the backseat of his Navigator. Not that Cooper should ever see that…

"What?" Cooper grins, and Kurt should never even think about… _that_ around him, he's worse than Santana. Even if they haven't met all that many times yet, because it's really only been three months and five days since Kurt bedazzled Pavarotti's coffin and Blaine brought Kurt's heart back to life. But still, in that short but wonderful time, Cooper has managed to interrupt them at least four times – and this is only the second time Kurt actually sees Cooper. It's as if acquiring a boyfriend prompted Cooper to step up as a brother, and call frequently to make sure Blaine is doing well. So it's hardly a surprise anymore – but still oh so annoying – when they are wrapped up in each other in Blaine's room at Dalton sans roommate, hands exploring uncharted above the waist-territory – and then Blaine's phone will go off like a warning bell. Even if Blaine sheds his gentlemanly instincts, and ignores the phone in favour of Kurt, it's still distracting when the phone goes off more often than they are trying to get off.

"Come on," Cooper takes advantage of Kurt being distracted, and pulls him out of the chair. "Let's see if we can sneak up on him and make him guess – I can blindfold him while you talk, to confuse him. But no sex talk, and I'll poke his eyes out if he tries to kiss me. Maybe you should cover his eyes instead," Cooper rattles on, and walks briskly towards his rented car, tugging Kurt with him in a manner that vaguely reminds him of his first visit to Dalton. These Anderson boys certainly know how to be in charge. Kurt sighs, and reminds himself to text someone, anyone as soon as he's seated in the car. It seems as if he's ditching the rest of the day. A colony of butterflies does a collective lift-off in his stomach.


	8. Hell(o)

**Remember that time Mr. Schue gave the Gleeks in lesson to sing something under the theme Hello, and Rachel decided to focus on the first syllable of that word?**

 **I did the same thing.**

* * *

Blaine unlocks the door to their apartment, and tries to be as silent as possible. He knows Kurt has an early start tomorrow, and needs the sleep he can get. So Blaine navigates through the entry hall without turning any lights on – carefully placing the keys on the sidetable, peeling off his coat and securing it on a hanger without jiggling anything, and sliding his boots together to the side so Kurt won't stumble in them tomorrow. He tiptoes further towards the kitchen for a glass of water and some fruit before he joins Kurt in bed.

Except when he enters the kitchen, Kurt is seated on one of their stools by the kitchen island. Blaine opens his mouth to say something sweet to him, but Kurt stops him with one hand raised.

"Don't. Just don't. You don't get to come home and be all considerate and sweet, when I know what you've done behind my back."

"Excuse me?" Blaine scoffs, because this wasn't exactly what he'd imagined he'd come home to. He was expecting Kurt to be asleep, but hoping he'd wake up enough to spoon Blaine until they both fell asleep again.

"Oh, don't act so innocent, you grew out of that look in high school," Kurt growls, and now Blaine is getting pissed. He has no idea what Kurt is talking about, but he's pretty darn sure he doesn't deserve to be under attack like this.

"I know, okay?" Kurt continues, and crosses his arms across his chest. It makes his biceps bulge, and his eyes are icey, and Blaine is getting inappropriately turned on. "I saw your producer today; she came by to inform me that I'll need to sew a new set of costumes for Hedwig, because apparently someone else is going on that tour. So imagine my confusion, when all I knew was that my darling husband has been the star of Hedwig for seven months now, and the last thing you told me was that you'd be going on a tour in 35 different states."

"I said Hedwig was going on tour…" Blaine says meekly. Mrs. Larson wasn't supposed to even be in the city this week, and then she goes all efficient and plans costumes for the new Hedwig less than 24 hours after Blaine informed her of his decision. Costumes Kurt are making, because he's brilliant. And passionate about musical theatre, so much that he tries to do both that and working on his own fashion line. But all that passion seems now to be directed towards Blaine, transformed to negativity.

"And you are Hedwig!" Kurt bites, and points at him with a trembling finger, vaguely reminding Blaine of Cooper. Kurt jumps down from the stool. "What the hell were you thinking, dropping out of Hedwig like this?"

"I didn't _drop out_ of anything; I had a mature conversation with Mrs. Larson about it!" Blaine yells back.

"Oooh, and it didn't occur to you to have that kind of conversation with your goddamn husband?" Kurt shouts, and he's so angry his eyes are glistening with unshed tears. He marches off, but pivots like the classically trained dancer he is – a NYADA-graduate who struggles to get parts, but is a virtuous with fabrics. "I'm not storming out yet, I deserve a decent explanation. Why the hell did I have to hear this from a colleague? I thought we didn't have secrets?" Kurt sniffs, and his anger seems to be part hurt now.

"I was going to tell you this weekend, when we're both off from work and have time for each other," Blaine says, trying to sound calm, but he's still upset about Kurt exploding all over his face like that.

"But you still made the decision without me. You made me believe you were going on tour, and as I'm trying to get used to the idea of not seeing you for quite some time I get the bomb in my lap that you declined that job offer. What am I supposed to think?"

"How about you think about something positive? God Kurt, it's as if you're disappointed I won't be gone for more than three months anyway. What the hell am I supposed to think? Do you even want to be married to me?" Blaine shouts, and he knows it's a low blow, but seriously? Is that his husband's reaction to knowing he'll be home on a daily basis?

"You know what? Screw you!"

"Yeah? And screw you too!"

This time, Kurt really does storm off, and it feels as if the entire building is shaking by the force of Kurt slamming the door to their bedroom. Blaine's fists clench and unclench, and he tries to inhale and exhale deeply, slowly. When he thinks he can trust his own hands, he finally gets the glass of water he initially needed.

He's draining it in large gulps when Kurt returns, with a bag over his shoulder.

"Kurt…" Blaine whispers, feeling hoarse and exhausted, more so from the shouting match than from playing Hedwig earlier tonight. But Kurt lifts a palm in his direction, and doesn't look at him. There's a short moment of shuffling noises as he probably laces up some kind of footwear and buttons his coat, and then the door is slammed shut.

Blaine exhales deeper than ever, and leaves the almost empty glass in the sink. He returns moments later, remembering how Kurt hates finding dishes with leftovers in the sink, and pours out the remaining water.

By habit and muscle memory, he undresses, takes a shower, brushes his teeth, flosses, and pulls on his PJ pants and one of Kurt's Hummel Tires & Lube-tees. He finds himself deep under the covers, head on the mattress next to Kurt's pillows, sniffing them.

He tries to be angry with Mrs. Larson for interfering in their marriage, but he can't blame her – they are on a tight schedule, and the new costumes have to be ready. She was only doing her job, while Blaine failed – again – to do his job as a husband. He should have told Kurt as soon as he had made up his mind. But when could he have? He's been performing six nights a week, while Kurt is working part-time as costume maker at a few off-Broadway theatres, and also juggling a part-time position at Vogue to have a foot in while working on his own fashion line. And in between, he's also part of the audition circus.

While Blaine spends his days resting after performance, tending to his sore feet, visiting the gym for one part work-out and two parts sauna to relax aching muscles, and then scoring the net for upcoming auditions he thinks call his name. They sometimes manage a quick dinner before he has to run to the theatre (it takes a lot of time to get his nails and face on, to tuck away his dick because that is seriously a short skirt, and to balance that enormous wig), but more often than not they only meet in bed, and have Sundays together. And that's what made Blaine decide to decline the tour offer. He needs to see more of Kurt, he can't be married to someone he only shares the mailbox and fridge with. They need to figure something out. It's been demanding to be Hedwig, and even if he loves her, it's time to let her go. Nobody is more important than Kurt.

He twists and turns in bed, feeling as if the minutes disappear at a snail's pace, and at the same time the hours fly. He checks his alarm clock, and the phone. It's been more than three hours since Kurt left, meaning he was seriously pissed when he hasn't returned by now. So Blaine does the only thing he can do. He picks up a pair of sweatpants to replace his PJ, finds one of Kurt's pair of wool socks knitted by Carole, and shoves feet and arms in boots and coat, and then he leaves the apartment.

* * *

Fortunately, Elliot is a light sleeper, so he's easily pulled out of bed when someone knocks on his door. Again. He glances at the big clock on his wall – way after 4 AM, but right on time. He knows it's Blaine even before he opens the door. It isn't the first time the young man has come over for a nightly visit.

"Umm, hi," Blaine says awkwardly.

"He's in the guest room," Elliot shakes his head, and gestures for Blaine to come in. Blaine toes off his boots and Elliot offers to take his coat, because that's what Blaine always does when Elliot comes to their place.

"I'm just gonna…" Blaine murmurs hesitantly, and nods in the direction of the guest room. The only people who ever sleep there are Kurt and Blaine, and Elliot should probably call it something else than a guest room. The Love Shack, perhaps. The Room of Necessity. Or The Redemption Room.

He watches Blaine walk down the corridor with steps that are both eager and careful. Knowing them – and he knows them very well by now – they'll talk everything out in ten minutes. Maybe fifteen; Kurt had looked particularly pissed tonight. Elliot understands – it's not easy to be a struggling artist, and Kurt has had so many rejections thrown in his face. The callbacks that never call back, the transparent and apologetic different vision-excuses. Elliot understands that Kurt lost it; he understands that Kurt is worried for their future when Blaine declines parts and possibilities. You take what you get when you are still at the bottom. You need the money to foot the bills and bring food to the table, and you need the experience to get better parts. You need to get your name out. Elliot isn't worried about Blaine, though. As long as Blaine discovers Kurt's insecurities and jealousy over this, they'll be fine. Blaine is too talented to be forgotten just because he declined the tour. In fact, Elliot thinks it's strategic to remain in the city and stay in the audition-loop. If they'll only listen, they'll understand each other. And they are good at this communication-thing, Elliot isn't worried. Ten minutes tops, and then…

Well, before the clock strikes 5, one of them will be at top. Sometimes Elliot thinks he's adding condoms and lube more often in the guest room than in his own room. He's not sure he believes in marriage, when he knows what it did to his parents. But he belies in love, and he believes in what the two of them have. He'd like the same for himself one day. Someone with so much passion and closeness that they aren't afraid to fight, and have the most glorious make up-sex after.

There's this cute waiter at the deli two blocks away, maybe he's working the early bird-shift, Elliot muses. He could eat breakfast. If not, there's always a party somewhere in the city that never sleeps; maybe he'll meet someone there.


	9. Impact

It's such a cliché, really.

Kurt had been in a hurry, as usual, barrelling down the sidewalk, zig-zag'ing around tourists, businessmen, nannies and everyone's grannies, all the while trying to avoid the puddles of dirty melted snow. And of course he hadn't succeed – he had been trying so hard to make it in that overwhelming but potential city, but nothing had seemed to come easily for him. So he shouldn't have been horribly surprised when he had crashed into someone – someone in a far less hurry that Kurt, but too caught up in whatever to watch where he was going with his coffee cup.

And as you probably understand, the coffee had ended up all over Kurt's dryclean-only coat. But the impact when they hit had also been so fierce that Kurt had stumbled backwards, slid on one of the few remaining ice patches, and he had seen his life flash in front of his eyes as he fell backwards, only to land with his ass in one of those awful slush-puddles.

Coffee-coat he could have worked with, but mud-bum not so much.

And that's where his life had turned into a goddamn romcom. Because Mr. I-Have-All-The-Time-In-The-World had hailed a cab for Kurt, and given him his folded up scarf to sit on when the cab driver had tried to make a big deal of Kurt's wet clothes. Mr. Unreasonably-Polite had calmly explained the cab driver how his seats would be as pristine as ever, because this particular scarf was made of wool, hand-knitted by his grandmother, and would soak up anything before it could reach his precious leather seats.

Kurt, too distraught by everything that happened, hadn't had his wits with him to ask for the noble k-NY-ght's name, but had just smiled distractedly while dabbing Kleenex to his coat. The man had once again apologized and sent him off. It hadn't been until the cabbie stopped in front of his apartment building that he had realized the human steamroller had slipped the driver a twenty.

Only in his boxer, because he had needed to get out of his wet clothes and stain-treat the coat ASAP, he had called Isabelle to explain about his delay, and they had figured out a Skype-meeting would be better than for Kurt to brave a second trek to work. Isabelle had spent at least 30 minutes of their meeting ooh'ing and aaw'ing over Mr. Last-Gentleman-On-This-Planet, and had scolded Kurt properly when she had learned he knew nothing about his saviour or how to reach him.

Later that evening, after carefully hand-washing the precious scarf, Kurt had found embroidered initials in one corner – or at least he had assumed they were initials, and not a bachelor's degree. For how much Kurt loved fashion, he could appreciate quality homemade items, and it was a shame that Mr. Coffee-Absorbed couldn't get his scarf back.

Kurt had shared his sympathetic sorrow with Isabelle the next day, which had lead to yet an exaggerated cliché. But she had had a point, and after some cajoling, or blackmailing, Kurt had relented and made an add on Craigslist in the hopes of finding the scarf's owner. Isabelle being the sucker for romance as she was, had even written a piece about it on Vogue's homepage, waxing lyrically over how chivalry obviously wasn't entirely extinct yet.

In the end, after less than 48 hours, the scarf had gotten back to its previous owner.

It's such a movie-moment, and Kurt still blushes when he thinks about it. Even now, years down the road, while Blaine is happily and proudly recounting their story to their adoption agent.

So cheesy.


	10. Journey

Blaine forces all his frustration and anger out through his fist, all the way from his toes, up his lightly bent knee, through his swaying hip, brewing through his torso, exploding in his shoulder, and firing off with his fist when it hits the boxing bag.

Just as forcefully as he hit the bag, he exhales, almost bending in two as he sways tiredly away from the still swinging bag. He had thought this would help him shake it off, but he's still disappointed he didn't get the part. In hindsight he knows he could have chosen a more suitable song for his audition, but he thought he had convinced them with playing the saxophone. Something he'd stressed to learn just for that. Such a waste of time…

He gulps down the rest of the water in his bottle, and retreats to shower. There's a new audition in two weeks he should prepare for. There's always a new audition, somewhere. Some day he has to get the part, right? Or is he just wasting his time?

Sulking in his bitterness, he fights off the boxing gloves and doesn't pay enough attention to where he's walking, and he almost crashes right into someone. Someone standing turned away from Blaine, half dressed and seemingly busy stretching his arms. He stops in time, though, but spills water down his sweat-soaked sleeveless shirt. On any other day Blaine would definitely first and foremost have noticed the well-sculpted butt in those painted-on jeans, or maybe the strong back with the perfect skin and broad shoulders. But what catches his attention is a tattoo on the man's back, across his ribs on the left side. _It's the journey, not the destination_ is written incurly handwriting.

Somehow, Blaine takes it to heart. He's been so focused on his goals and dreams, being ambitious and driven, but forgetting to enjoy life as he gets there. He's beginning to look like his father, even if that's the only thing they have in common. And Blaine does not want to become someone who lets success be all and everything, be it as an actor or as a businessman like his father.

"Thank you!" Blaine grins sincerely at the back. God, when did he last take the time to smile to a cute boy and say something nice? He's been so singlemindledly determined that he's lost touch with friends, Cooper, and what should be a potential dating life in New York, at least compared to Westerville.

"I beg your pardon?" the body asks warily, and turns slowly towards Blaine. And goodness sweetness what a lovely front it is on that body.

"Your tattoo?" Blaine explains. "It made me think. About my journey. I needed it. So thank you."

"Okay?" the hot body drawls with one eyebrow raised in fair judgment. "I guess that's one of the better reactions I've gotten because of it."

"What's the worst?" Blaine asks curiously, giddily, because he may have had an epiphany, and he just wants to carpe the heck out of the diem, including talking with this half-naked and oh so handsome boy with a meaningful tattoo on his back.

"Santana said… No, you know what, I can't tell you that, it's too embarrassing to tell a stranger," he rolls his eyes and huffs through a smile. He then grabs a shirt he starts buttoning and covering up all that skin. That's okay, he still has captivation and expressive eyes and at least four different smiles Blaine wants to stay busy with for the next minutes, at least.

"Is it too embarrassing to tell your dad?" Blaine asks to keep the conversation alive, all thoughts about a hot shower and immediate preparations for whatever audition is up next, forgotten.

The young man freezes in the middle of pushing a button through the hole, and clears his voice awkwardly.

"From a spiritual point of view I guess he already knows what Santana said, even if I haven't told him that," he says softly, and blinks repeatedly with glassy eyes.

Shit, Blaine really stepped in it, didn't he?

"Do you drink coffee?" he blurts out, because everything gets better with coffee, right? "Let me buy you coffee?" he continues before the other man can reply.

"I don't need your pity," the other replies hesitantly, and continues to get dressed.

"It's not pity. You improved my crappy day just by taking your clothes off, the least I can do is buy you coffee," Blaine rambles, and too late he hears the very poorly chosen phrasing. "The tattoo, I mean," he adds awkwardly, trying to save his face. The tattooed boy just stands with his arms crossed over his chest, looking at Blaine. He then out of nowhere snorts loudly.

"You would probably go spectacularly well along with Santana," he chuckles.

"So, is that a yes?" Blaine asks, trying to tame his eagerness.

"I don't accept coffee from strangers," the other deadpans, and Blaine hurries to extend his name and introduce himself. "Kurt Hummel," the other, Kurt, answers.

"There's a café in the lobby here with half-decent coffee," Blaine suggests.

"I know it," Kurt smirks, "I'm a Junior. It's not my first time hitting the gym," he says, and unconsciously shifts in a way that proves to Blaine that oh my God, arms, lovely strong arms. What kind of moron is he, who tries to be suave and worldly in the school gym in front of someone who is just a year from graduation? "It's the first time someone buys me coffee based on a tattoo, though," Kurt smiles, still teasingly, but also more friendly. "I wonder what your reaction had been if you'd seen the other tattoo instead…"

"There's a second tattoo?" Blaine gulps, and he didn't even know he had a thing for tattoos.

"Strictly speaking, you saw my second tattoo. But yes, I have been under the needle twice."

"Maybe one day you'll let me know the story behind them," Blaine says, because Kurt strikes him as the kind of guy who does something for a purpose, and doesn't ink his body just because he saw a pretty drawing, got drunk or lost a bet. Then again, Blaine doesn't know him at all, but he hopes he'll get to change that. A coffee is a good way to start, at least.

And they start with that coffee, which turns into a refill before Kurt has to run for class. But he leaves his number with Blaine, and a new entry in his calendar on his phone to have lunch with Blaine in two days, when none of them had classes at a decent lunch hour. Blaine is already smitten, as is his trademark – he falls quickly, if not often. But when someone catches his attention, they've got it. He is pretty sure he could fall in love with Kurt, and he catches himself daydreaming about being boyfriends, living together, marriage, act on the same stage, maybe a parrot or a cat. But then he smiles at himself, because he is so far ahead of himself he can't even see himself anymore, and that's not what he wants. He is going to enjoy this journey getting to know Kurt, for as long as it lasts, and he's going to stop and smell the flowers in between auditions, exams and performances. Maybe even literally – Kurt strikes him as the kind of guy who'd appreciate flowers. Maybe not in two days, but when Blaine eventually mans up to ask him out on a proper date, he'll bring him flowers.


	11. Kiss

"Mmm, hi, good morning," Blaine murmurs, and stretches like a lazy cat under his dune covers, burying his head further into his stack of pillows. That man loves his comfort.

"Morning," Kurt can't help but smile back, taking in the sight of his husband, so adorable and sexy all in one, and still not a close friend with the alarm clock. Kurt should know – it went off twenty minutes ago, and he's been trying to rouse the other Mr. Hummel-Anderson out of bed ever since. In fairness, Kurt's efforts have mostly consisted of running his hands over what visible parts of Blaine he found, which meant his shoulder blades as he was sleeping on his side turned away from Kurt with the covers tightly around him. But Blaine has rolled entirely over facing Kurt now. They don't have anywhere to go today, just a Sunday to catch up on this and that, spend some quality time together, and recharge batteries before a new week. But Kurt would still like to get out of bed.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world, who gets to wake up with you," Blaine murmurs, still a bit drowsy, but alert enough to be his cheesy self. He cups Kurt's cheek, and shuffles closer.

"If my stomach didn't crave breakfast, I'd suggest we just stay in bed today," he adds with a lazy smile and a glint in his eyes. And it is a thought Kurt get behind, they haven't really had much for anything you could do in a bed lately.

"Morning breath," he rushes out when his brain catches up with Blaine's advances. No matter what kind of hygiene routines he performs in the evening, he always feel as if his mouth smells like a dead rat in the morning, and he doesn't seem to get used to Blaine's ease with their bodies. Blaine, who unashamedly farts in front of Kurt, while Kurt still prefers a shower before sex. Blaine, who doesn't see the problem with peeing while Kurt showers, but respects that Kurt has that problem.

"I really don't care," Blaine whispers, and closes the distance with one of those load muah's that make Kurt feel it to the bones that he is wanted, cherished, chosen - but even so it's also the most obvious and natural action for Blaine.

"French toast, toothbrushes, a joint shower and maybe getting a little dirty?" Blaine murmurs against Kurt's cheek, nosing along his jawbone. Kurt can't see him, but bets anything that he's wiggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Kurt exhales, because there was never any other alternative.

"You whisk and I flip?" Blaine suggests, and when Kurt nods numbly, he quickly pecks his lips.

Kurt isn't sure when he'll get used to waking up with Blaine in his life, but he sure as hell doesn't mind it.


End file.
